


Smeers

by StrongerThanAnySword



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Again, Blurb, Camping, Depends on Who You Ask, I'm Sorry, M/M, Marshmallows, another old fic, cavity-sweet, could be shippy or friend-shippy, just a little bit, mini adventure, moderately edited, smores, this fic is almost 7 years old now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 15:23:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19087759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrongerThanAnySword/pseuds/StrongerThanAnySword
Summary: Apparently, roasted marshmallows are extremely good.The boys decide to see what all the fuss is about.





	Smeers

"I don't understand this, you know."  
  
"You're not  _supposed_  to understand it, my dear.  This is what humans do in the summer," the angel said with a sigh.  
  
"There isn't a  _point_  to it, though!"  Crawley punctuated his point by stabbing his marshmallow-laden stick in the air.  
  
"Well, the  _stick_ \--"  
  
"Shut up, angel, you know I'm not talking about the  _stick._ "  The demon rolled his eyes, for once unshaded, gesturing at their surroundings.  "We're in the middle of a sodding  _wood,_  and I don't even know  **which**  wood, since you wouldn't  _tell_  me..."  
  
"That would have ruined the fun of it, my dear," Azira said simply.  His eyes widened in shock as his marshmallow burst into flames.  His friend, sitting across from him, began to laugh loudly as the angel tried frantically to blow the fireball out.  Struggling to catch his breath and wiping away a tear, Crawley put the fire out with a wave of his hand, leaving behind a blackened, gooey mess.  
  
"Because this is fun?" he said with a smirk.  
  
" _Yes,_ " Aziraphale insisted.  Resolutely sticking his tongue towards the blackened mass, he inched the charred heap towards his mouth.  
  
"Hold on," Crawley said.  Aziraphale looked up, comically frozen with his tongue out and his shoulders hunched.  "I thought we were making...whatchamacall 'em...smeers."  
  
"S'mores," Aziraphale corrected automatically.  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"S'mores," the angel insisted, tentatively licking his marshmallow mess.  He jerked back with a yelp, bringing a hand to his mouth as he swung the stick wildly away from his face.  
  
Crawley, in a peculiar moment of extraordinary coolness, reached up lazily and caught the errant stick in one hand.  Smugly eyeing Aziraphale, he wrapped his tongue around the marshmallow and easily slid it off the stick.  A strange light came into his eye as he chewed.  
  
"Tastes good!" he managed around his mouthful.  Zira laughed quietly, amused.  
  
"You  _would_  like the burnt ones, my dear," he said primly, grabbing another marshmallow and spearing it.  Crawley nodded enthusiastically, trying to clear his mouth enough to speak again.  Aziraphale chuckled a little and cautiously edged his new marshmallow towards the fire.  Coughing his stolen marshmallow down, Crawley reached for a new one himself, the goal now being to light as many of them as possible on fire.    
  
  
  
It was probably, Aziraphale decided, the best camp-out that there had ever been.


End file.
